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Being a NYC boy of somewhat Irish descent (the plot lines twist a bit between the Scots and the French) with a yen for carved hearts and inimitable rock and roll, I have always had a soft spot for Glen Hansard. Mostly with the Frames but who couldn’t love the...

I wouldn’t know who Douglas Sirk was if it weren’t for John Water’s relentlessly reverent homages and I wouldn’t know who Frog Eyes is if it weren’t for…well, to be perfectly frank, I don’t really know who Frog Eyes is despite their decade plus commitment to idiosyncratic desperation. I know...

All photos by Rob Schell. Jack and Eliza The cave-like maze of small dark rooms that make up The Casbah were brightened Saturday night by the warm chords radiating from the two guitars on stage, and also by the smiles beaming from the two people wielding them. The vintage of...

Author’s Note: This show was loud. This show was bright. This show was fucking terrifying. And I almost didn’t go because I very much value being alive and able to walk the street with both eyes and front teeth in tact but I did (duh) because to let a history...

I’d forgotten my goddamn headphones. Doesn’t seem to make sense to lament over headphones when one is on her way to a music festival, but I’m a commuter first, festival-attendee fifteenth. In fact, I had never been to a music festival. I have this thing about crowds (which I’d rather...

Limping, tendons twisted like pants in a washing machine, sunburn creeping ants down my neck, I made my way to the third day of the concert. Slight headache, eyes squinting. Let’s do this. Tame Impala – Seconds after walking in through the press entrance, electrified Daft Punk-styles vocals kicked the...

My first bareback (ew?) dive into a sun-saturated Governors Ball, and I armed myself with enough spf 100 sunscreen to make Mercury think the Sun was a space heater. Late again though, as usual, hoofing it along Randall’s Island, frantically tripping over dogs and children. Holy shit, there’s a press...

Words by Delicious // Photos by Tom Hoppa courtesy of Latitude 38 Entertainment What’s it going to be like on the final day at Bottle Rock? Are there are going to be more people? Less people? Will I want to lay low in the back and act like this weird...

In lieu of pithy, personal commentary regarding Saul Williams and his jarring new clip for “Burundi,” we have instead chosen to include the following statement (taken from the Martyr Loser King site) which Mr. Williams had initially offered to accompany the video’s debut on Vice: Here’s “Burundi”:...

Author’s Note: It’s been a long, lost weekend. Two or three, I suppose. Teeth out. Pills in. Grind, suffer, succumb. Repeat. It’s been a time for reflection. A time to reconsider the skin and the way I’m spent in it. A somber seance, in flashes but also a celebration of...